


Reign O'er Me

by Space_of_Waste



Category: Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Original Work
Genre: Blow Jobs, Church Sex, Consensual Non-Consent, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, F/M, Gangbang, Half-Elves, Half-orc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-20 19:21:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30009735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_of_Waste/pseuds/Space_of_Waste
Summary: A nightly excursion across church grounds brings more attention than a certain young woman was ready to handle.
Relationships: Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	Reign O'er Me

Chrystyne looked around the grounds of the convent. It was approaching midnight and although she saw someone moving in the distance with a lantern, she was confident that no one could see her. She crouched and made her way across the open space, quietly heading toward the library. It would be closed, but she was prepared. She had picked the key from one of the students responsible for maintaining the Hall of Enlightenment. She hurried to its large double doors, unlocked one of them, and slipped inside with barely a sound.

Chrystyne closed the door behind her and walked through the darkness, moving toward one of the suspended lanterns. She carefully lit the candle inside with an attached flint stone, then lifted it from its hook and carried it into the aisles. It wouldn't do for anyone outside to notice the dancing light through one of the many windows. She found a spot that she was satisfied with, shelving blocking line of sight to any windows, and set the lantern down on a bench between the aisles. She peered across the rows of shelving, looking for a book to hold her attention. She chose one at random and sat, waiting. She didn't hear the door open again, didn't hear the soft footfalls of someone entering the library, didn't hear the door quietly close once more, this time locking shut.

The book held her attention well enough that she didn't hear anyone approaching. As her eyes skimmed over the words a hand quietly reached around and pulled tight on her mouth. She squealed, the sound muffled against the large hand clamped tightly over her dark-skinned face. “Well, well, what do you think you're doing in here after hours, Chrystyne?” Chrystyne recognized the voice and began to thrash, desperate to escape his hold, but his other arm snaked around and held her body against his, preventing her from wriggling free. She began to notice that there were others with them, ears perking as she heard several voices begin quietly laughing or mumbling to each other. Fighting the hold on her head, Chrystyne twisted her eyes about and saw that there were a total of five young men standing around her, all smirking to some degree.

Chrystyne continued to fight, knowing that it was hopeless. Donovan had her in his iron grip and wouldn't let go unless he wanted to. He said, “You're supposed to be in your quarters, aren't you? We all know there's a curfew.” He shifted his hand a bit, curious to hear her response to this accusation. She fired back, “Yeah, well, what the hell are you losers doing here, then?” The boys chuckled at her spirit, mocking her attitude, including Donovan, who laughed and responded, “Why, we were simply minding our own business and saw a delinquent wandering about after hours. What kind of acolytes would we be if we didn't follow to make sure you weren't up to anything nefarious?”

Chrystyne rolled her eyes, still wriggling and trying to release herself from his hold. “As you can see, I just came here for some late night reading, so I'd appreciate it if you all went on your way.” Donovan hummed as if in thought, pretending that he was considering her words before saying, “No, Chrystyne. I'm afraid it won't be that simple.” The other boys were nudging each other and laughing quietly. One of them stepped forward to stand in front of Chrystyne, still bound by her attacker. Donovan laughed and whispered into her ear, “I'm sorry, Chrystyne, but you're going to have to be punished.”

Chrystyne shook violently, trying desperately to escape, knowing what was about to happen to her. She knew because she had planned the whole thing, of course. She and Donovan were lovers, quietly sneaking trysts whenever they could get away with it, often having to leave the convent itself to do so. Over time, her tastes had become more and more ravenous, until one day she started asking Donovan if he had any friends whom they could “share.” Don was all for it, and their love life started to include the occasional threesome, rarely with the same third wheel. But she was insatiable, and her requests grew more extreme as the months went on. Eventually, she asked Donovan to meet her in the library around midnight, and to bring four friends that he could trust to keep a secret. There, she would finally have her fun.

That was all behind the scenes, of course. She had also said that he should pretend that they didn't know each other “that way” and that he should convince his friends to play along. She had slept with all of them previously, of course, and they were all very aware of her extreme inclinations. But they were only too eager to play along if it meant another chance at the wild and uninhibited Chrystyne. None of them really understood why she needed this extra layer of debauchery in order to get off, but none of them really cared, either. In the end, it was going to be a night they would never forget.

The blond half-orc before her began hiking up her robe as she struggled in Donovan's grasp. As he raised them above her waist, every man other than Don got a good look at her exposed nethers, and again the whispers broke out as they discussed this development. “Really, Chrystyne?” asked Corta, the blond. “No underclothes?” As he held her robe up with one hand, he stroked her thigh with the other. Chrystyne writhed about, trying to avoid his touch, but there was only so much she could do with Donovan holding her. Corta's hand roamed around, quickly making its way right to her core. As his hand began petting the moist entrance there, Chrystyne squealed a bit and even managed to leak out a little tear. As his hand began slowly stroking the folds there, Corta continued, “I knew you were immoral, but I had no idea you were such a slut.” His hand gripped up at this, firmly grinding against her wetness, and together with Don they lifted some of her weight just off the ground.

Chrystyne was still trying to fight, but she was quickly losing strength. Her thrashing in Don's grip only served to tire her, and even if she broke free of him there were so many others that she would have to get through. They had her surrounded and their intentions were clear. Chrystyne felt powerless in this moment, resigned to the fate that she desperately wished to avoid. In her mind, she grinned madly. It was perfect.

Two of the others were approaching. Don nodded to them. It was time to move forward. He pushed his legs forward to kick Chrystyne's knees out from under her. She fell forward, almost landing on the bench, and Donovan took a fistful of her dark hair and turned her head toward him. “It's time for your punishment, little Chrystyne.” The two half-elves, Barnabas and Arin, each took one of her arms and stretched it out as Corta bent down and took the hem of her robe, lifting it up and, together with the others' help, off of her completely. She was on her knees there amongst them all, arms held out, naked and shaking in fear. Her tears were starting in earnest now as the terror gripped her.

Donovan laughed and knelt to her, ostensibly to taunt her further. As he leaned in, however, he whispered in her ear, “Are you okay? Tell me if this is too much.” Chrystyne reared back and headbutted him. The other guys all reacted exactly the same, loosing a quick shout in surprise that turned into mild laughter. “Fuck you, asshole,” she said fiercely. “Do whatever you want, see if I care.” Donovan rubbed his nose, unsure if that was an answer for him or not, but decided to play along. He twisted around and made as though he were about to leverage all of his weight in a smack across her cheek, but held back at the last instant. He still struck her, but not nearly as hard as he appeared to, and the illusion was enough to fool the rest, it seemed, as the laughter quickly died down.

Don looked at each of them in turn, saying, “This bitch still doesn't understand her place.” He looked into her eyes and continued, “By the time we're done with you, you won't be fighting anymore. You'll be begging for more.” He looked up again at the men, giving them an exaggerated expression to signal that they needed to keep playing along. “Right, guys?”

They looked at each other carefully, unsure that they were still playing roles, but they fed their confidence amongst each other as they began to nod and get back into character. Elhert, a lithe wood elf, took the most convincing, glancing down at Chrystyne staring defiantly up at Don even as her cheeks were stained with tears. He knew she could get rowdy, same as the others knew, but... he had no idea she was such a good actress. Despite his misgivings, Elhert was actually the first to begin removing his own tunic and trousers. He wanted to get this over with, and resolved to get his part out of the way and leave before this got more uncomfortable for him.

Don nodded, seeing that Elhert's eagerness was putting the rest of the group at ease, and got back into the groove of things. “First things first, Chrystyne,” he growled as he looked down at her. “You must confess your sins.” He waved Elhert forward, letting the exposed young man take his position before her. “You'll need to open wide, but don't worry. We don't actually need to hear what you have to say.” With that, he gave Elhert a small shove, and the man's slowly hardening cock waved before Chrystyne's fierce expression.

She looked up at Elhert, remembering now what a vanilla lover Elhert had been. He hadn't even wanted to penetrate her alongside Don when they were together last time, instead satisfying himself with a single, quick fuck and seeing himself out. She couldn't believe Don had invited him to this, but she supposed beggars couldn't be choosers, and she was getting tired of begging. If nothing else, it would serve to work her up and get her ready for the rest of the night. She knew he was going to have trouble playing along, so she decided to try coaxing him a bit. “You think you have what it takes, El?” She leaned forward, hot breath washing over his erection. “You think you can make me repent? Let's see what you've got.” She opened her jaw and held her mouth wide open as her arms were gripped out to her side.

Elhert speared forward, ready as he ever would be. He entered her mouth with accidental force, not sure how energetic he should be to start. He figured Chrystyne could take it, and began humping her face. She sealed her lips tightly around him, letting him apply all the friction as she focused on sucking properly. Elhert watched as her cheeks took on a sunken look whenever he pulled back, and one time he pulled out of her mouth completely, letting everyone hear a loud popping noise as the suction was released. “Well?” he tried to counter her barbs with his own dirty talk. “How is that for a start?”

Chrystyne tried not to smile. Gods help him, the poor boy was trying. She looked up at him and spit at his cock, doing literally nothing as it was already coated in a liberal amount of her saliva. “This is nothing. You're gonna have to do better than th-” Her words were cut off as he thrust forward again. His cock moved rapidly across her tongue as she started to gag from the sheer force of his assault. Instinctually she tried to reach out to hold him back so that she could catch her breath, and when she realized that her arms were still being restrained, the first feelings of what she had wanted to accomplish here made themselves known. She was helpless, helpless, before this weak little elf, and that little itch she had was now being scratched hard.

Elhert was frustrated, to say the least. Chrystyne could be infuriating, and although he was sure her attempts to emasculate him were simply to goad him, his reaction was not as much of an act. He thrust forward quickly, feeling the tip of his cock break through the back of her mouth and enter her throat. He reached down and grabbed her head as he did so, holding her against him as solidly as he could while her writhing tongue milked him for everything he had. The sensation washed over him, and he felt only the tiniest bit of regret as he came directly into her throat.

Chrystyne was very familiar with this part and knew to close off her lungs as Elhert came, letting his come flow freely down her gullet. She tried not to moan too loudly, playing the part even now, but the truth was that she loved being treated this way. Elhert humped her face a few more times, letting her tongue squeeze out the last drops of his seed, then pulled away. The other guys cheered mildly, and Elhert realized that they had been talking the whole time. He hadn't even noticed, he was so focused on messing up Chrystyne's face. Looking at her coughing and crying, bits of semen dripping out of her mouth, he thought he achieved his goal.

Don clapped once and said simply, “Next.” Arin stepped forward, his clothing already half undone and fully so before he stood in front of Chrystyne. Donovan, at some point, had taken his position holding Chrystyne's left arm. He reached down and took her chin in his grasp, making her look up at him. He grinned, his short-cropped red hair burning in the low light of the lantern. “Don't worry, bitch. I know what you want.” Without further ado, he gripped the sides of her head and rammed forward, cramming his hard cock right into her mouth.

Chrystyne had to give it to him, he did know what she wanted. Of course, it wasn't part of the play to admit that, so she looked up at him and rewarded his roleplay with more whining and tears. Arin met her gaze and showed his appreciation for her act by speeding up. Chrystyne relished the feeling of his flesh stroking back and forth across her tongue, and of course he appreciated that she was willing to submit herself to them for her own pleasure. He didn't try to take too long, knowing that the others in the room were all hard and waiting their turn. Poor Corta had already started stroking himself. He wasn't too rough or too soft, settling for a reasonable amount of friction as her tongue worked around his cock.

It wasn't until the end that he decided to really get rough, and as he felt himself beginning to come, he reached forward and pulled her head back. Chrystyne was about to get a second load down her throat, and although she was making rather loud noises indicating that she didn't want this, her toes were curling and her eyes were starting to glaze over. Arin held her tight to his crotch as he finished, shooting his fluid against the back of her throat, pulling back to give her room to swallow as the last spurts landed on her tongue. When he was finished, he pulled out, and everyone heard the pop again as her tight lips relinquished his cock.

She had an easier time regaining her breath this time, being more ready for Arin's roughness than she had been for Elhert's. Arin slipped over to Barnabas' position and retook her arm, holding her up despite her body wishing for a moment's rest. Barn quickly pulled his trousers down a bit, leaving himself mostly clothed as he took his turn in Chrystyne's mouth.

Barnabas was a quiet one, Chrystyne knew, so she wasn't going to be getting much dirty talk out of this one. She was fine with that, though, her breath already starting to leave her as Barnabas thrust forcefully into her. He had a particularly long dick, and she was not surprised to find that her throat was penetrated before he was fully within her. Her eyes peered up at his dumbly, her mind starting to go blank from the pleasure. His cock pressed further and further back, gagging her and pushing her to greater depths of bliss. He looked down but seemed to looking through her, not at her. Perhaps he saw her for what she truly was, what she wanted to reduce herself to tonight. Not a real person, just a piece of meat to be enjoyed and enjoy in turn a rotating carnival of cock. Chrystyne was glad that everything seemed to be going her way, and she continued thinking that as her vision faded.

Don noticed something was odd when the fire in her eyes died out. He stepped forward and placed a hand on Barn's shoulder, wordlessly letting him know to ease up. Without hesitation, Barn backed off, his soaked member appearing to flow out of Chrystyne's filthy mouth. She panted, a good sign to Don, and after a few seconds her eyes re-opened as she awakened completely, looking up and around at the men surrounding her. Don almost wanted to stop this, at least for a moment to allow her to compose herself, but he knew doing so would only provoke her wrath. She was fully committed now, exactly where she wanted to be, he knew. So instead he walked up and laid a light smack across her cheek.

“Had enough, slut?” he asked roughly. Drool continued to pour out of her, running down the dark skin of her chest and racing to her already dripping wet folds. She wouldn't close her mouth, not when leaving it wide open was affording her so much pleasure. She glared at him and responded quietly, “You haven't done anything yet. None of you creeps have the balls to take me completely, do you?” Don almost laughed, remembering each and every one of these men having their way with her at some previous time, but kept it to himself. She was lost in the role, it seemed. Who was he to break her out of it?

“Very well,” he said. “Barnabas, I believe you were accepting confession?” Barn nodded and stepped forward again, slipping his still-wet cock into her mouth again. Chrystyne felt the intrusion, relished it. Even now she remembered her role though, and scowled up at Barn, internally wishing that he was more the sort of person to respond to that sort of thing. He simply pounded on, dispassionately thrusting, every now and then angling to one side or the other to scratch some unknown desire of his. His pragmatic use of her mouth soon paid off, and Chrystyne felt him pull about halfway out so his hot load could pool on her tongue, stroking himself with his hand as it leaked out.

Barnabas surprised her then. No sooner had he shot out the last string of his come than he pulled out of her mouth and slammed his hand firmly across her mouth. He lifted his grip, angling her head back, offering a single imperious command, “Drink.” Chrystyne was ignited by the stern timber of his voice and did as she was told, gulping down the mouthful of salty fluid, wishing desperately that she could touch herself as she did so. Barn said nothing else, just glaring directly into her eyes as she followed his order, then roughly tossing her head aside like he was disgusted with her. Chrystyne was wrong. Barn knew exactly what he was doing.

Corta stepped up. Already stroking his huge erection with a tight grip, Corta leaned down and whispered, “I'll make this quick, I'm sure you're ready to move on,” low enough that he figured no one else would hear. Chrystyne spit at him and Corta wasn't sure if that was an actual answer or not, but he figured he should just get on with it. He adjusted himself and pushed his girthy half-orc dick into her, wasting no time in working up a rhythm against her tongue.

Chrystyne sucked dutifully, reminding herself that she couldn't moan, that she wasn't supposed to want this. But gods did she want this. Arms held to each side, Chrystyne could only move her head back and forth, and she did what she could to force this along. Corta matched her speed, panting and beginning to lose control of himself. His earlier stroking had gotten him plenty worked up, so it didn't take too long before Chrystyne felt the familiar heat of semen spilling over her tongue. Corta pulled back as he came, stroking again and becoming the first of the group to offer Chrystyne a facial. He unloaded himself across her forehead and cheeks, intentionally missing her gaping jaw. She closed her eyes as she panted, enjoying the warm sensation settling onto her face.

Corta took the arm that Donovan was holding so the large man could take his turn. Donovan circled slowly, enjoying the sight before him as he unhooked his belt and dropped his trousers. He gazed upon the naked, gasping form of his ferocious lover, truly understanding for the first time the depths to which she was willing to sink in pursuit of gratification. He wondered, not for the first time, if he really loved this girl, or if he had simply become addicted to her particular brand of crazy, but this was hardly the moment to worry about it.

Chrystyne was well used to the abuse by this point, so Don's cock pressing into her mouth offered nothing too harsh. She knew Don was clever, though, and he would think of something to twist this. In the meantime, she settled into his rhythm, keeping a tight seal as the stiff cock lubricated itself in her drooling mouth. Don closed his eyes and enjoyed a simple blowjob for a moment, letting the roles slip away from his mind as he focused on his girlfriend's mouth wrapped around him. He didn't think about Corta and Arin keeping her arms held back, until he did. An idea clicked in his mind, and he knew how to wrap up this part of the night.

He reached down to take Chrystyne's head in his hands, causing her to peer up at him with fresh tears forming in her eyes. He looked to either side at Arin and Corta, telling them both to release her arms. They both cocked their eyebrows but offered no argument, allowing her arms to fall limp at her side. With both hands in her black waves of hair, he began to stroke her scalp lovingly, not slowing his thrusts one bit as he steadily fucked her face. He felt hands trace up his legs in turn, and his smirk deepened. She was forgetting the play, he knew, losing herself in the sensations. He knew the other guys could care less about her strange fetishes, but he knew she would care, and so decided to save face for her.

“Why Chrystyne, you're not tiring, are you? You have only begun to pay for your transgressions, and I am nowhere near finished with your punishment.” He saw her eyes light up as she remembered the whole point she had organized all of this, saw the fire in her return. She began shaking, raising her arms to push against him instead of caress, groaning hard as she again pretended to fight this treatment. He noticed that she was actually pushing against his legs, so he fought back, gripping chunks of her hair and pulling him down onto his cock. Her screams were muffled by his erection piercing into her throat, and she began to gag harshly under his manhandling.

Donovan refused to relent, fucking her beautiful mouth with renewed vigor, listening to her struggle to take his entire length. He could feel the spasming of her throat wrapping tightly around his dick, and though it was a wonderful feeling in its own right, it was not a new sensation. Harsh as he was being, this was nothing she hadn't done before. So even though she fought and screamed and cried, he took comfort knowing that she was handling it and that this was all an act.

Chrystyne felt her throat beginning to grow sore as the repeated assaults began to wear on her. She was thankful that Don would likely be the last one, at least until she could catch her breath a bit. She appreciated his little trick, allowing her to really get back into the role as she tried in vain to pull herself from his crotch. She couldn't see from the tears welling in her eyes, no longer fake as she found herself completely unable to breathe. 

Thankfully, or perhaps not so much, the end was near. Her throat's contractions served to weaken Don's resolve rapidly, and he held her head tight to himself as he released himself down her throat. She tried to scream, not from pain or from being violated, but from the sheer ecstasy of it all and from a virulent need to be touched. Her knees rubbed against the hard carpet of the library as she tried in vain to rub her soaking twat against anything. The cock in her mouth pumped over and over, shooting hot come straight past her tongue. Her throat managed to force it all down, milking Donovan properly as he finished.

He wanted to stand there in the glow of the moment but knew she wouldn't last much longer, so he stepped back quickly. As his cock withdrew from her mouth, it dragged with it thick strands of saliva and lingering come, snapping as she coughed and shuddered, her lungs working overtime to make up for their recent deficiency. She fell to all fours as she collected herself, several fresh loads now resting deep within her stomach. Just thinking about it got her riled up again, but she trusted Donovan to move things along, saying only, “You sick bastards. Stay away from me.”

Donovan chuckled, pure acting, as he stepped forward and gripped her hair again. She shrieked as he lifted her from the floor, secretly letting her lift herself rather than actually pulling her. Chrystyne stood before him, her head tilted to facilitate the illusion that he was holding her up, tear streaks running down her dark-skinned face. “Chrystyne?” he asked quietly. “Are you ready to submit to our judgment?” She choked out a sob at this, mentally preparing herself for the coming insanity.

Don roughly turned her around and bent her over the bench. He took a moment to admire her gorgeous backside before he knelt down and took hold of her hips. Chrystyne squirmed, trying to pretend that she was still trying to get away while not actually wanting to throw her lover off target. She had been looking forward to this for days now, and as she looked up in the dim candlelight at the other four men, standing about with their dicks in their respective hands, she knew this was going to be a night to remember.


End file.
